


Flowers (First Doctor x Elderly! Reader)

by KOREAlchemist



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KOREAlchemist/pseuds/KOREAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment with two people time forgot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers (First Doctor x Elderly! Reader)

Flowers (First Doctor x Elderly! Reader)

 

The gentle breeze flew through the air as you walked around the multicolored park. It was spring and the flowers were in full bloom; there were seas of deep reds, royal purples, and bright yellows all around as you slowly strolled about. You were an older woman now; your once beautiful (h/c) locks now faded into a steel gray, your sharp (e/c) eyes had been weathered by the years, and even your walk no longer had that spring in its step. Yet somehow, you felt young again among the fresh and budding flowers; it was like time was reversing itself. Both mind and feet were beginning to wander until you bumped into an older gentleman who was observing a garden of light pink tulips.

“Excuse me, sir. I didn’t see you there,” you apologized, embarrassed at the sudden intrusion. 

“It’s quite alright,” the mysterious gentlemen brushed it off like it was nothing, “One can get a bit distracted by such beauty.” He turned his attention back to the flowers. You followed in suit.

“The flowers are quite lovely, aren’t they?” 

“Indeed,” he replied. You focused back on the strange fellow. The man was a bit . . . peculiar; he appeared to be an average man with slicked back platinum hair and clothing that seemed to be more fitting in the Victorian era. Despite this, you decided to ask the oddity a bit of a . . . well, odd question.

“May I join you?” He looked at you for a while, the gears spinning away at every second beneath those soft blue eyes until he figured out his answer.

“If you wish,” he finally responded, and then ambled on to visit the other sections of blossoms and greenery. With a click of your feet, you trailed behind until you caught up to the surprisingly quick man. 

“My name is Miss (l/n), by the way,” you stated. If you were going to walk and talk with him, then he should at least know you name. He tugged a bit at his worn, black tailor coat and cleared his throat.

“You can call me the Doctor; Miss (l/n).” 

“Alright, Doctor,” you laughed slightly at the unusual name but with an enigma like him tottering side by side next to you, you figured you could at least enjoy the company as you waltzed your way amongst the flowers beds. It was a splendid time as the two of you were chatting away, telling stories and tittering away at about god knows what. You had just finished your story about the time your brother had to wear a dress to school when the Doctor stopped and stared at a beautiful patch of Japanese blood grass. The grass was wild and sharp with a maroon red staining its tips in an uneven manner.

“Hmmm,” you heard the Doctor grumbled under his breath.

“Are you alright?” You were worried about you new-found friend; he seemed sadden by the greenery before him.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he waved you off, trying his best to get you off his back. You got the message, trying to change the subject but once again focusing on the object of his irritation. 

“The grass looks amazing like a sea of rubies.” 

“Like Gallifrey,” he mumbled. Hmm, Gallifrey . . . I’ve never heard of that town before. You continued your inquiry of the bizarre man.

“Is that where you live?”

“Where I use to live,” He stated, making a clear point on the use to. 

“Oh,” you gave a slight signed, feeling bad that you hit such a tender nerve, “Do you miss it?”

“I only miss one thing,” he began, grabbing his coat lapels and continuing to watch the grass loft in the breeze, “The fields of crimson grass around my home; my granddaughter and I use to play there all the time.” He closed his eyes and started to wander back to those precious memories of Gallifrey and his life before exile. 

“You could always go back, right?” You questioned, trying to bring him back to the present.

“Someday, maybe,” he replied, opening his eyes and facing you with a twinge of hope on his worn out face. 

“It’s always someday, right?” You suggested, “Just like how the flowers bloom here year after year.”

He chuckled at your comment, beaming from ear to ear. You, in turn, were trying to hold back your cackle with your hand but tiny giggles slipped through your fingers and ultimately escaped entirely. The laugher fest was soon ruined by the chime of the park’s old fashioned clock. It rang three times, signaling the current time. 

“Oh, will you look at that,” he faced towards the direction of the clock then back to you, “I’m sorry but I must be going.”

“I understand,” you mustered, beating the last of the titter out of you and presenting your hand to him, “I had a great time.”

“I did too,” he nodded and retuned the gesture, “Thank you; Miss (l/n).”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

He then bowed, turned, and walked away towards the entrance of the park when, at the last minute, you called out to him. 

“Doctor! Can we do this again sometime?”

But there was no response; he was just gone. You were sadden by this but kept your chin up and smiled as you began to head home yourself, reflecting on the moment you shared today with the mysterious man you only knew as the Doctor.


End file.
